I get bored and decide to start a blog

I’m at work, but taking a break. I was playing a new song and broke the G string (ha ha, very funny, get your minds out of the gutter, I mean the one on the GUITAR) so I’m chilling while the band farts around and goofs off. It’s that kind of night, anyway. Nobody’s exactly working around here.

Cycl0n3 says blogging is good for the soul or the psyche or something. He’s probably gonna be a famous writer some day, so I guess he’d know. So anyway, here I am starting my own little blog. I guess it’s not a blog if I’m writing it in a spiral notebook I picked up at the bookstore, huh? But there’s no computer here, and I don’t have one at home either. I spend most of my free time jamming or learning new songs, so I haven’t got around to buying one. And I’m not trading in my cell phone for a blackberry. I hate typing on those little chiclet keys, especially with my fingers. Your fingers get all callused and hard if you play the guitar every waking moment, you know.

I figure I can type all this up later on one of the library’s computers. Or in the school’s computer lab. They’re cool over there and they like me; they’re always asking me to come and perform at their assemblies or give a lecture on music or something. The kids think I’m hot. LOL. Hey, they’re not wrong.

Besides, how can I possibly remember everything long enough to get to a computer if I don’t write it down first? Hell, I can’t even remember what I had for breakfast. Not true, actually. I had apple pancakes. Again. I need to go to the store and buy some different fruit.

While I was getting the pancake stuff out of the fridge, the maid came in and saw me standing there in my furry white bra (I know! Can you believe a fur bra? I just had to have it. It’s comfy to sleep in, especially if there’s somebody there to appreciate it, if you know what I mean) and my little bitty black and white lace panties. He started clapping and woo-hooing all over the place. I wiggled my fanny for him a little bit. I’d had a good night’s sleep (alone for a change) and I was in a good mood. What the hell.

God, I ramble. Maybe that’s why I’m such a party animal. I love to talk.

So yeah, CyclOn3 thinks blogging or journaling or whatever this is, is cool, so I’m doing it. It is kind of a good de-stresser after a long day, and Zelda always says I could always use more press even though my popularity has skyrocketed recently and my songs are getting good air time on the pop stations. Maybe I’ll get more fans out of this. Cool. I could even get on Twitter, but CLEARLY I could never limit myself to 140 characters.

Speaking of Cycl0n3, he’s dreamy as hell. He wears sunglasses when he doesn’t have to, and a leather jacket, and he always looks like he needs a shave. I think he wants to be James Dean. That style can be lame or sexy as hell, depending. He can definitely carry it off. And my God, he’s freaking insatiable in the sack. Can’t get enough.

I’m gonna stop now. We’re working on a new song and want to get some more done before we head home.